by L M Krier
‘Murderer? Or victim?’
The Cuckoo is
a Pretty Bird
Ted Darling crime series
LIVRES
LEMAS
L M Krier
Published by LEMAS LIVRES
www.tottielimejuice.com
© Copyright L.M.K. Tither 2020
Cover design DMR Creative
Cover photo Neil Smith
THE CUCKOO IS A PRETTY BIRD
All rights reserved.
The right of L.M.K. Tither to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for the enjoyment of the purchaser only. To share this ebook you must purchase an additional copy per recipient. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Fisherman's Friend is a registered trade mark of the Lofthouse of Fleetwood Ltd Company of Lancashire
This book is also published as a printed book
ISBN 978-2901773-46-7
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Author
Contact Details
Discover the DI Ted Darling series
Acknowledgements
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
About the Author
L M Krier is the pen name of former journalist (court reporter) and freelance copywriter, Lesley Tither, who also writes travel memoirs under the name Tottie Limejuice. Lesley also worked as a case tracker for the Crown Prosecution Service.
The Ted Darling series of crime novels comprises: The First Time Ever, Baby's Got Blue Eyes, Two Little Boys, When I'm Old and Grey, Shut Up and Drive, Only the Lonely, Wild Thing, Walk on By, Preacher Man, Cry for the Bad Man, Every Game You Play, Where the Girls Are, Down Down Down
All books in the series are available in Kindle and paperback format and are also available to read free with Kindle Unlimited.
Contact Details
If you would like to get in touch, please do so at:
https://www.teddarlingcrimeseries.uk/
[email protected]
facebook.com/LMKrier
facebook.com/groups/1450797141836111/
twitter.com/tottielimejuice
For a lighter look at Ted and Trev, why not join the fun in the We Love Ted Darling group?
FREE ‘Ted Darling is billirant’ badge for each member.
Discover the
DI Ted Darling series
If you’ve enjoyed meeting Ted Darling you may like to discover the other books in the series. All books are available as ebooks and in paperback format. Watch out for audio-book versions, coming soon:
The First Time Ever
Baby’s Got Blue Eyes
Two Little Boys
When I’m Old and Grey
Shut Up and Drive
Only the Lonely
Wild Thing
Walk on By
Preacher Man
Cry for the Bad Man
Every Game You Play
Where the Girls Are
Down Down Down
The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird
Acknowledgements
I would just like to thank the people who have helped me bring Ted Darling to life.
Beta readers: Jill Pennington, Kate Pill, Karen Corcoran, Jill Evans, Alison Sabedoria, Emma Heath, Alan Wood, Hilary Battersby, and The Dalek, for editing assistance.
Police consultants – The Three Karens.
Police dog information – Police Dog Quest and his handler.
Colourful language consultant – @Menarms1 on Twitter
Medical advisor – Jo Baines
Makaton advisor – Chris Flounders
And a very special thanks to all Ted’s loyal friends in the We Love Ted Darling Facebook group. Always so supportive and full of great ideas to be incorporated into the next Ted book. FREE ‘Ted Darling is billirant’ badge for all members.
To Hilary
who has helped me so much in so many ways
with the Ted books
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading the Ted Darling crime series. The books are set in Stockport and Greater Manchester in general, and the characters use local dialect and sayings.
Seemingly incorrect grammar within quotes reflects common speech patterns. For example, ‘I’ll do it if I get chance’, without an article or determiner, is common parlance.
Ted and Trev also have an in-joke between them - ‘billirant’ - which is a deliberate ‘typo’.
If you have any queries about words or phrases used, do please feel free to get in touch, using the contact details in the book. I always try to reply promptly to any emails or Facebook messages.
Thank you.
Chapter One
‘Nuh nuh nuh? What’s that supposed to mean, you fat retarded slag? Shut yer gob and get me another beer before I slap you one.’
The youth, lounging in a tilted wooden kitchen chair, his booted feet up on the table, shouted the words. His tone was harsh, aggressive.
The young woman tried again to articulate something in reply. It was sounds, rather than words. Her efforts served only to enrage the boy. He sprang to his feet with enough force to send the chair crashing backwards onto the kitchen tiles.
The woman didn’t react to the loud sound but her face screwed up in fearful anticipation as he took the couple of strides which brought him close to her. He put his face so near to her ear that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek. Smell the rancid mix of beer and tobacco.
His mouth was right up against one of the powerful hearing aids she wore. She tried to recoil from the touch of his lips against her earlobe but there was nowhere for her to move to.
His voice was staccato now. Excruciatingly painful through the amplification.
‘Get. Me. A. Beer. You. Fucking. Stupid. Bitch.’
Burning tears sprang to her eyes. She cringed as she turned, one hand going to the fridge door, the other to the nearby drawer for the bottle opener.
When she whirled back to face him, with surprising speed, it was with a different implement in her hand. A long steel kitchen
knife. Which she plunged with little effort into his scrawny chest. In between two ribs. Right up to the hilt.
The expression on his face slid from anger to bewildered surprise. He looked from her to his hands, cupped instinctively to the front of his T-shirt, either side of the protruding weapon. Blood was seeping freely through his fingers.
He opened his mouth to speak but blood was already filling it, leaking out between his lips and down his nose, dripping steadily to the floor.
His eyes were already becoming unfocused as his legs slowly buckled. He sank first to his knees then into an untidy heap, face down.
He didn’t move again.
The young woman looked at him for a moment. Mild curiosity on her face. No more than that.
Then she shut the drawer and went to put the kettle on.
‘Hello, Abigail, my darling. Daddy and I are just going out to dinner with one of his boring friends so I thought I’d call my precious girl first to see how you are. Are you all right, sweetie?’
‘Nuh, nuh ...’
Abigail looked at Mummy’s smiling face on her phone and tried to make the right words come.
‘Fabulous, darling, I’m so pleased you’re managing. Daddy and I are very proud of how independent you are. Now, have you had something to eat today?’
‘Tuh, tuh … ee.’
‘You’ve had your tea? Clever girl. Well done. Just remember not to eat too much. You know you have to be careful with your weight, poppet.’
Mummy suddenly turned away from the camera, so it was harder for Abigail to make out what she was saying. But she could tell that she was shouting, and she looked cross. Even from the side view she could see that her face looked scrunched up and not smiley any more.
‘Oh, for god’s sake, Frank, I’m coming. I’m talking to our daughter. Remember her? She’s yours, as well as mine, although you’d never think it. Go and get the bloody car out and I’ll be right there.’
Mummy was looking back at her now, all smiles again. Abigail was pleased. She didn’t like it when Mummy shouted. It made her think she’d done something wrong.
‘Sorry about that, darling. You know what a fuss silly Daddy makes about being on time. Sweetie, your hair looks a mess. Have you not washed it recently? Make sure you take proper care of yourself. Mummy’s a bit busy at the moment but as soon as she can she’ll take you into Wilmslow to that nice hairdresser and get it properly cut and styled for you, if you’d like that. Perhaps a facial and a manicure somewhere, too? And some new clothes? Anyway, I must dash now, sweetie. Love you.’
Abigail was still trying to articulate a response, ‘Luh, luh ...’ when Mummy disappeared.
She put her phone down on the table and stepped carefully past the figure on the floor. There was nasty sticky stuff round it now that she’d nearly slipped in a couple of times. It hadn’t been there before. Not at first. The smell was bad, too, but she didn’t know what to do about it.
She went to look in the cupboard under the sink. Mummy did most of her shopping for her online, although Abigail also had a generous allowance from her parents. The purchases were delivered to her door. It took her some time but she managed to read most of the words on the labels, except the very big ones, so she knew where to put most things. She found the bottle she was looking for. It had pictures of flowers on the front. Mummy had told her to put some down the plughole in the kitchen sink to make it smell nice.
It was hard to get the top off it but she was pleased with herself when she managed it. She poured out about half of the bottle, round and round where the boy was lying. That made the smell much better and she was pleased with herself again because she’d had a clever idea. Mummy would tell her what to do next when she saw her. She never came to the flat, but Abigail would try to make her understand what the problem was and Mummy would make it all better.
Abigail was smiling as she went to put the kettle on, stepping wider now to avoid the nice smelly stuff she’d just put down.
Detective Chief Inspector Ted Darling put a pint and a glass of whisky in front of Inspector Kevin Turner, as requested, then sat down opposite him with his Gunner.
‘Not like you, that,’ he told him, nodding to the Scotch which Kevin was knocking back as if he’d been waiting all day for the opportunity. ‘Work problems or home stuff?’
Kevin put his now empty glass down on the table and smacked his lips in appreciation. He and Ted were having a quiet moment together at the end of another busy day for both of them.
‘Both. First off, the missus and me have a special anniversary coming up and she’s got some daft idea in her head she wants to go on a cruise round the Med. A bloody cruise! I ask you. Do I look like the cruising type?’
‘Can’t you appeal to her inner green? Tell her how environmentally unfriendly it is? Especially now you have a little granddaughter and you need to think about the planet’s future, for her,’ Ted suggested. ‘Those big ships do a lot of polluting of the seas and oceans.’
Kevin scoffed. ‘She doesn’t care about any of that sort of stuff. Not her thing at all. She wants to do the damn cruise because one of her friends has been on one and not stopped raving about it ever since she got back.’
‘And what do you want to do?’
‘I’m not much good at holidays. I’d be happy with a week in a guest house in Rhyl. Something like that. Or maybe even on the south coast, if she wanted to try somewhere new. But she won’t hear of it. It’s got to be the high seas or nothing. And apparently we have to dress up like a dog’s dinner for evening meals. Black tie and all that shit. I spend my working life in uniform. I want to wear what the bloody hell I choose on my holidays.’
He pushed his empty whisky glass to the other side of the table and pulled the pint nearer to him before he spoke again.
‘What about you and your Trev? What have you got planned in the way of holidays this year?’
Ted looked smug. Still pleased with his inspired idea of a surprise holiday for his partner.
‘Trail-riding in Corsica.’
Kevin looked surprised. ‘What, motorbikes? And where the bloody hell is Corsica, anyway? Is it somewhere in Italy?’
‘Horses, believe it or not. That’s Trev’s other thing, and I can do it a bit, as long as it’s on something safe and steady, with good brakes. And it’s an island. Near to Italy, but I think it’s French. They certainly speak French there.’
Kevin looked impressed. He picked up his pint for a long swallow.
‘Anyway, I need to run something past you which you might not like, so I needed the Scotch to fortify me in case you decide to karate kick me round the room,’ Kev went on when he’d had a drink.
Ted took a mouthful of his own drink then smiled at him. ‘You know I’m very mild-mannered most of the time, Kev – until crossed.’
‘Well, I just want to stress this wasn’t my idea. You might have heard the rumours already. We both know we’re ridiculously short of officers. One idea being mooted is sharing resources. Like we help you out when needed. So when Uniform has something big on, like these bloody “British jobs for British workers” rallies, which take up so much manpower, I should ask for some of your CID officers to put uniforms back on and come and join us on the front line.’
He picked up his beer and took another gulp, watching Ted anxiously for his reaction.
‘I had heard the suggestion. I don’t see anything against it in principle,’ Ted told him levelly. ‘You know me. I think all police officers are equal, Uniform, CID and everyone else. I’d be up for it, as long as we weren’t busier than you were.’
He sipped his Gunner again then grinned. ‘Mind you, I think some of the team might need to get new uniforms issued. Virgil has bulked out so much with all the weight training I doubt he’d even fit in his now.’
Kevin gave an exaggerated ‘Phew’ and took another mouthful of his pint. ‘I should have known you’d be reasonable about it. And your Jezza in her battledress would be worth two of any other officers
. I don’t know what she does to the enemy but there are times when she frightens me.’
Ted laughed his agreement. DC Jessica ‘Jezza’ Vine had joined his team on a last chance basis. She’d proved a challenge but was now a valued member of the unit. Even so, Ted understood what Kevin meant. There were times when she was definitely scary.
He was about to reply when both men’s mobile phones went off at the same time. As they reached for them, looking at the screens then exchanging glances, Kevin said, ‘If the nick is calling us both at once about something, it’s not likely to be good news. And I’m bloody off duty. I handed over to Irene, so it must be something big if they’re calling me as well.’
‘Off duty. I remember those days,’ Ted told him, as he picked up his own call.
‘Eric Morgan here, guv,’ the Uniform sergeant told him. ‘I know it’s already been called in but I’m here on a case as a first responder. I’ve got a young probationer with me who’s not stopped puking since we got here and this is clearly going to be a kid glove job for so many reasons, so I thought I’d call you direct, if that’s ok?’
‘Yes, go ahead, Eric. What have you got?’
‘Neighbours phoned in reporting a bad smell coming from a flat. The resident opened the door to us with no problem, after a couple of rings of the doorbell. That’s when it started to get a bit complicated.
‘The flat occupant is a young woman, early to mid-twenties, I’d say. But she seems to be non-verbal, apart from a few sounds. She’s also very deaf, even with hearing aids, and at a guess, she’s learning disabled.
‘All of that’s tricky enough. Then we come to the source of the smell. One very dead body. Several days, at least, I would say. We haven’t touched it to check for cause of death but there’s a lot of blood. And, get this, the place reeks of that very flowery disinfectant stuff. It looks like it’s been poured all round the floor in an attempt to hide the smell, but the body’s just been left there.’